"Father."
"Hm?"
"I heard that Yagyū Souma was directly promoted to jōnin after this exam—is that true?"
At the Nara household, Shikamaru asked with rare curiosity.
Shikaku smiled softly as he adjusted his clothes.
"Who told you that?"
"Everyone's saying it."
"Just because everyone says it doesn't mean it's true. And besides—how do you know Souma himself would even agree to it?"
Shikaku looked amused.
Shikamaru's recent changes hadn't escaped his notice.
He was still lazy, yes—but now he actually studied, tried to grow stronger, tried to think like a shinobi, instead of stumbling forward only when pushed.
Most importantly—
He had begun to think.
He would come home at night and quietly discuss questions with his father.
That alone was tremendous progress.
Shikamaru paused.
"…He wouldn't want to be a jōnin?"
"He probably would, but not through this situation. Sunagakure isn't exactly the nicest party to be involved with."
Shikaku patted his son's shoulder.
"You've got your graduation exam today, right? I'll pick you up in the afternoon."
"No need. I'm waiting for a friend. I'll come home by myself."
Shikamaru dodged past him and headed toward the Academy.
A few steps later, he spotted a familiar figure.
He froze for half a second, then hurried over and bowed.
"Souma-senpai!"
"Shikamaru, going to class?"
"No—graduation exam today."
"Graduation exam…"
Souma blinked.
Already?
Time had gone by fast.
He showed a faint nostalgic smile, then said, "It's nothing difficult. Don't stress."
"Yes."
Shikamaru nodded and walked off, glancing back every few steps.
Was Souma going to talk to his dad…
about becoming a jōnin?
He started thinking it over, but with too little information, he found no answer—only unnecessary confusion.
Souma watched him go, eyes narrowing slightly.
Shikamaru…
Ah. Asuma had asked Souma for help designing a team test.
If the test was too simple, Shikamaru would see through it instantly.
Headache.
After thinking for a long while, Souma finally shook his head.
Forget it.
He'd just do his best.
He walked a bit further and saw Shikaku.
"Shikaku-senpai!"
"Walk and talk?"
"Sure."
Souma nodded.
He had two reasons for coming—first, to ask about the profits from the improved Soldier Pills.
Second, to hear Shikaku's thoughts on the jōnin promotion matter.
The first question Shikaku answered easily.
But the second…
Shikaku just smiled faintly.
"The Third hasn't decided yet. What about you? What do you want?"
"I want to be an ordinary chūnin."
"…"
Ordinary?
Was he misunderstanding what "ordinary" meant?
What kind of "ordinary chūnin" mastered this many techniques?
Still, Shikaku understood Souma's intent—
He wanted a low profile.
While walking, Shikaku said, "I think there's a compromise."
"Compromise?"
Souma blinked. "Special jōnin?"
"Yes."
Special jōnin—shinobi with outstanding expertise in one field, but not quite full jōnin level overall.
Which perfectly fit Souma.
Everyone already knew he had talent—but promoting him directly to full jōnin was too drastic.
"Are there any benefits to becoming a special jōnin?"
"Uh…"
Shikaku was momentarily stuck.
Benefits?
Well yes—there were stipends, status boosts, and certain privileges.
But he knew that wasn't what Souma was asking.
He thought carefully.
"Benefits? Of course there are. Mainly, it lets you collaborate with others much more easily."
Souma understood.
Higher rank meant fewer obstacles.
He nodded.
"In that case… I do have an idea. I should speak to the Hokage and hear what he thinks."
Shikaku didn't pry.
He simply led Souma straight to the Hokage's office.
Inside the Hokage Building
The Third Hokage was troubled.
The issue wasn't Rasa—not anymore.
Souma's capabilities absolutely qualified him for jōnin.
That was why everyone was whispering about the promotion.
But should he actually do it?
This wasn't just any jōnin.
This was a thirteen-year-old jōnin—made during peacetime.
"Lord Hokage."
"Come in."
The Third put out his pipe and gestured at the seats he'd prepared in advance.
"Shikaku, Souma—sit."
"Thank you, Hokage-sama."
Souma sat and gathered his thoughts.
"Hokage-sama, I want a research facility."
"A research facility?"
The Third blinked.
"Location?"
"The Forest of Death."
"…That's not necessarily impossible."
The Third considered it.
The area was now home to kikaichū and a giant ant colony—excellent natural guardians.
His only concern was—
Would Souma become another Orochimaru?
He glanced at Shikaku.
Shikaku understood immediately and excused himself.
The office door closed, leaving just Third and Souma.
"Souma, the village funding your research isn't an issue. But I need to say a few things ahead of time—just so there's no trouble later."
The Third's tone became stern.
"You know about Orochimaru?"
"Yes. I ran into him during the exam."
Souma didn't hide anything.
Kakashi's specialized goggles—designed by him and Tenten—had ensured he knew he was being monitored that day.
"He used to be my proudest student. Clever, talented… I almost never needed teaching. But eventually, he began studying forbidden techniques."
The Third closed his eyes, pain flickering across his face.
"Immortality, right?"
"He told you?" The Third sighed heavily. "Of course he would…"
"He said he made some progress. And… it seemed like he wanted to do something to me that day, but I avoided him."
Souma recalled the scene.
In truth, he knew Orochimaru had intended to plant a curse mark.
If Orochimaru wanted to experiment on others, Souma would welcome the data.
But on himself…
No thanks.
The Third was startled.
"He's already succeeded?"
"Possibly."
"…"
The Third was horrified.
Immortality—a forbidden art even the Sage of Six Paths never achieved—
and Orochimaru might've actually developed it?
Unbelievable.
"I have a theory," Souma said.
"Speak."
"His mental state was unstable. If he really achieved early-stage immortality… isn't it likely he's trying to—"
"Take over bodies?!"
The Third shot to his feet.
Physical immortality—
That was the most likely method.
"Yes," Souma said calmly.
"That man… I should have killed him back then!"
The Third's voice grew icy, but eventually he exhaled, calming himself.
"Let's not talk about him. I just want you to stay far away from such things."
"Of course. My goals are nothing like Orochimaru's."
Souma's voice was firm.
"I want to create techniques that make everyone better—stronger. Not immortality. Even the Sage of Six Paths couldn't achieve that. Why should we chase it?"
"Well said!"
The Third brightened at once.
He didn't think Souma was lying—everything Souma had done so far proved otherwise.
Chakra Needles, improved Soldier Pills—
his inventions had already begun strengthening Konoha.
A child born with the Will of Fire…
He felt relieved.
Then the Third laughed.
"In that case, I was planning to give this to you, but perhaps you're not interested after all…"
He picked up a scroll.
Souma's eyes moved to the seal.
Flying Thunder God Technique.
Flying… Thunder… God…?
Souma's eyes flashed like lightning.
He surged forward instantly and snatched the scroll.
"I'm very interested!"
"I thought you said you wanted to research things that benefit everyone?"
"They're not mutually exclusive!"
Souma clamped onto the Third Hokage's hand.
The Third chuckled.
"Most people can't learn Hiraishin, you know."
"I probably can't either."
Souma shrugged, regaining composure.
If the Third was offering it, then he believed in Souma's potential.
And Souma knew himself—he wasn't the chosen one.
Mastering Flying Thunder God required not only learning the formula but also possessing talent for space-time ninjutsu.
Tenten had talent in that direction.
He… might not.
But he had the Bodhi Seed.
And if he could pull something from it—like he had with kikaichū and the Chakra Needle—
he might create a simplified version usable by more people.
That was worth exploring.
Souma spoke honestly.
"I might not learn it. But Konoha must develop space-time ninjutsu."
"Oh?"
The Third grew intrigued. "Explain."
"Space-time ninjutsu isn't just for battle. It's for transporting people and supplies."
"That's a strategic weapon."
Souma's voice grew serious.
The Third knew that—
but implementing it was the question.
He remained silent, waiting.
Then a memory struck him.
"The Fourth once trained three guards who mastered the Flying Thunder Formation."
"Flying Thunder Formation?"
"A trio combining their abilities to transport whatever is at their center."
The Third explained briefly.
Souma slapped his thigh.
"What a waste!"
"What?"
"That formation only needs one person with space-time ability!"
Souma gave a simple analogy—
just like surgery.
Only the lead surgeon needed mastery.
Support staff didn't need top-tier skills.
The more Souma talked, the brighter the Third's eyes grew.
Right!
The other two could stabilize chakra and assist the formula—
only one needed space-time talent.
Why hadn't they thought of this sooner?!
If Konoha had possessed such a formation during the Third Great Ninja War…
The Third Hokage suddenly slapped his own thigh so hard it echoed.
Regret.
He regretted so deeply his thigh might bruise.
"Lord Hokage, don't blame yourself. Back then, the Fourth hadn't even invented the Flying Thunder Formation."
"…That makes it worse."
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